Can Dead Hearts Beat Anew?
by Waifine
Summary: Kaiba is faced with the choices of either enlisting the help of Joey and co. as he must change his very nature, or lose the only person he holds dear, Mokuba. -Kaiba/JoeyJounouchi friendship-
1. Prologue

**So, I would like to point out that this story was actually written in its entirety in 2006. So, it's really, really, **_**really **_**old. Why am I brining this up and pointing this out? Because now, in 2013, I'm tacking on an Epilogue which I promised someone a very long time. So, just so you're all aware: you **_**are **_**reading something which is, for the most part, older than newer.**

…

**Prologue. **

Seto Kaiba sat in his office on the hundredth and tenth floor. He was a tall man, with dark brown hair and eyes as blue as the sky and as cold and sharp as icicles. It was odd, but though he had only celebrated his nineteenth birthday five months ago, he could not be called a boy. He was, indeed, a man, and nothing short of that.

Many envied Kaiba. They envied him for his wealth, for his handsome face, and for his brains. Few knew that he had had the very human warmth which makes men, men, squeezed out of him. Few knew that the frost in his eyes had been brought about by a blizzard of abuse, hatred and scorn. All said, 'if only he would open up! If only he would let us know how he feels!' If only these masses knew that if Seto Kaiba ever did open up all that would be found would be an empty void where once his heart had been and from where it had been cut out and thrown in the gutter.

There was only one human on the earth that could bring a smile to the man's face. To be precise, one child. This was Kaiba's thirteen year old brother, Mokuba. But even the boy could see a painfully large difference between the brother he knew before, and the one he knew now.

Seto Kaiba's long, spider-like hands bulleted across the keyboard of his computer. As evening turned to night CEO of the company showed no signs of sleepiness. That too seemed to have been seared out of him in his youth. His stepfather was largely to blame. He had made Seto into a wall of iron. He had worked the child day and night until there was nothing left in Seto to call 'child.'

It was well into the morning when one of the great, oak doors of the Kaiba Mansion opened just a crack, and Seto Kaiba entered. "Morris!" he barked though the house, his voice echoing off the walls in that great marble chamber that was the Entrance Hall. "MORRIS!"

An old man came scurrying out of a passageway. He was in his late seventies, and had worked for Seto's stepfather. Unlike his fellow butler, Hobson, who had been despicable to the Kaiba boys, Morris had been the only person in the entire house that had been kind to Seto and his brother when they had been adopted. However, the old man's kindness had been forgotten by the arrogant young man, and to him Morris was nothing more than a nuisance. "Fell asleep again, did you?" Seto asked nastily, opening his arms so that Morris could remove his great trench coat.

Morris himself was one of the last of a dieing breed. He was a true Gentleman's Gentleman. He was never seen out of his room without his tails – a kind of predecessor to the tuxedo – and he never left the house without his bowler hat. The old man spoke Queen's English, and he had a face like a raisin. He was old, withered and had a nose that looked like a lightly trodden on grape – round and slightly squashed. His eyes were a light brown, and where rather shocking; they shone like dazzling precious stones in an otherwise wilting face. There was such life and warmth there that it would have brought almost anyone to tears to see this good, kindly old gentlemen, roused so rudely from his sleep to greet his heartless master.

"I…I am sorry sir. It was very late, and, it being March, it was rather damp by the doorway. I became concerned for my throat and took the liberty of perching myself in the Red Hallway. I must have, as you have suggested, let my thoughts wander sli…sli…slightly." Even as Morris gave this hastily explanation while relieving Seto Kaiba of his coat, the old man could not prevent a large yawn, which exhibited five – three on the top row and two on the bottom – gold teeth.

Seto roughly pulled his arms out of his sleeves before Morris could fully take the coat off. Because of this, the coat was nearly wrenched from the old man's hands, and he stumble slightly to keep hold of it, nearly crashing into Kaiba. The younger man gave him a contemptuous look, before slowly ascending up the curved, red carpet oak staircase.

He forgot about the servant almost the second Morris vanished from the range of his eyesight. Kaiba's brain began to plus with the updates to his duel disk that he was planning and all the work there was yet to be done to it. It was only when he set foot on the next floor that he took care to tread more softly. He did not want to wake him. No, he certainly did not.

Kaiba made his way as quietly as he could to one of the oak doors. The hall he was now in was deserted but for these two rooms. The one he had stopped before was about half way down the corridor. The other made the end of the hallway. Silently Kaiba turned the knob on the door.

When he opened it enough to look in, a shaft of light fell upon a sleeping face. It was a boy. Unlike Kaiba there was no overlooking the childish features here. This boy's cheeks were still round, and his face was still kind. Kaiba entered the room, and quickly closed the door almost completely behind him, leaving just enough of a crack for him to be able to see the light from outside and to follow it back out of the room.

He then made his way to the bed side of the child. The boy would be turning fourteen in less than half a year. Yes, this was Seto Kaiba's younger brother. Mokuba. The boy's face looked so happy in sleep. So calm, so relaxed. Kaiba doubted that his own face would even look that peaceful in death. Mokuba's raven black, long hair was strewed all over his white pillow. He really was such a beautiful, kind, little boy.

A flicker of a smile flittered across Kaiba's face. It was not a sneer or a sarcastic smirk as he gave to far too many people. It was a smile. If that smile had graced his face but a little oftener he would have been considered not 'chillingly handsome,' but extraordinarily so. It altered his features completely. His sunken cheeks seemed to refill and his long-dead eyes sparked momentarily with life.

Then the spark went out…and his eyes were dead again.

Kaiba leaned down to his little brother, and gave him a soft kiss on the forehead. He then straightened up again, brushing a few stay, black hairs from the little boy's face back behind his ear. Seto Kaiba stood there for a moment longer, looking down at the only child...the only person…that he could ever, would ever…love.

Then he left the room. He continued down the hall to the last room, and entered his own bed chamber. He dressed into his white pajamas and fell into a deep sleep the second his head touched the soft pillow. The next morning he would rise with the sun and go back to his office on the hundredth and tenth floor, but not before looking in on his sleeping brother one more time. This was the daily routine of a man whom all envied and many admired. This was the life or Seto Kaiba.


	2. Who’s Fault is it Really?

**Chapter 1 :: Who's Fault is it Really?**

Mokuba blinked as the morning sun shone into the room. He groaned and stretched. Seto had not come home the night before when Mokuba had gone to bed. How late had he stayed up? _You'd think that he doesn't sleep at all._

It was true. After the previous tournament Kaiba had been working harder than ever, not only on improving the Duel Disk, but on his oldest dream: Kaiba Land; the ultimate Duel Monsters theme park.

Mokuba sighed. The Tournament...Seto had lost to Yugi...again. But that was not really what was bothering the young boy. It was something else. It was something that went much deeper than a loss in a game of cards. Noah's Virtual Reality World. Mokuba could still remember the ten year old so well. He swallowed, and fidgeted with the sleeve of his pajamas. He knew that the past was over and done with and no amount of holograms were about to bring it back. But all the same…that past… the past he had seen replayed before his eyes had showed him things which had been buried and forgotten in his mind.

Seto. The Seto he had known; the boy who had always called him Mokie and had always smiled; the one who had never felt ashamed of grinning when the situation called for it. What had become of him? Mokuba knew all too well. He had been smothered by the routine and discipline wrought upon him by his step-father.

The boy's little fists clenched on his bed sheets. No matter how often he thought about it, it still seemed so miserably unfair to him! Mokuba sighed again. It was getting late. It was already passed ten in the morning, and because it was a Saturday, Mokuba did not have school, but he _did_ want to go to work. That was, of course, he wanted to see Seto at his work.

Sometimes Mokuba would not see his brother for a few days at a time. Seto would leave the house before Mokuba was up, and would come back long after Mokuba had gone to bed. This, however, _was_ rare. Usually Seto would be the one to get Mokuba up for school.

Still…other than that, Mokuba saw little of his brother.

Mokuba kicked off his bed covers, and clambered out. It was cold outside, and the cold leaked into the great house. Mokuba was grateful for the warm slippers at the foot of his bed so that he wouldn't have to set foot on the wooden floor.

He wriggled his toes about in his wonderful slippers as he put on his navy blue bath robe. It was not every day that Mokuba got to sleep in late _and_ see his brother. Saturdays really were a celebration for him. Though Sundays were better. Seto had the day off on Sundays, even if he spent most of it in his room on his laptop.

Mokuba's small feet padded down the red carpet on the second floor, and down the great stair case. He looked about for Morris, wondering where in the house he would be able to find him.

All of a sudden, out of the living room, who should come but Old Raison Face himself. "Ah! Master Mokuba!" exclaimed the old man. "You are awake! Come, come into the living room. I have ordered Joan," one of the maids that worked in the mansion, "to make a fire for you in the fireplace. It is very warm there." The old man bustled Mokuba into a large room to the right of the stair case. It was a large room indeed, and the fireplace that stood at one end of it would never be enough to heat the whole thing. But there was a small cushioned couch right by the fire place – not close enough to feel uncomfortable, yet not far enough to feel cold – on which Mokuba always loved to lie.

Happily, the little boy cuddled in among the cushions. "Thank you Morris," he murmured. All of a sudden the desire to go outside left him. He was so comfortable here. "Morris…could you please bring me a hot cup of tea?"

Ten minutes later, Mokuba was happily equipped with his hot tea, and Morris was standing over him, providing amiable conversation as he dusted the many book shelves that lined the walls. The room really was full of book. Mokuba had no idea on what they all were, and he was firmly resolved to read them all when he grew up.

"Morris," Mokuba said, now sitting up on his couch, and taking a sip of his hot tea. "What time did Seto get home yesterday?"

"Mr. Kaiba got home well passed you bed time," replayed Morris, climbing a library ladder to reach the upper floors of books with his feather duster. "You would not have been able to wait for him, even _with_ those extra five minutes before bed time that you implored of me." His Queen's English accent, accompanied by his age and his articulation made Mokuba think that there really could not be a wiser man than Morris. He was glad of the Old Raison Face's company.

He took another sip. "What did he say?" asked Mokuba. "Did he say why he was home so late?"

"No, Master Mokuba," said Morris, removing an old volume of Homer's Iliad from the shelf and examining it. "I believe Mr. Kaiba was a bit too tired to present me with the information." He set the book back on the shelf.

"I think…" said Mokuba, then breaking off. He was still brooding on what he had been thinking about when he had first woken up. Seto…the old Seto. "I think Seto's the best person in the world," he said firmly. He wanted to here agreement. He wanted Morris to agree with him emphatically. He wanted to hear that Seto had never _really_ changed.

Morris, however, did not answer at first, but continued to dust the book shelves in silence. He leaned over to the side slightly to get at the farther books. "You, Master Mokuba," he finally said, "are quite right to have such an opinion of him."

"But…don't _you_ think so?" prompted Mokuba.

"My dear Master Mokuba," said Morris, turning around on his ladder to look at the little boy. "My answer is only this. I doubt that in all the world there is a man who loves his brother more than Mr. Kaiba loves you."

"Can't you ever stop calling him _Mr. Kaiba?"_ Mokuba snapped in aggravation. "That's what you always used to call our step-father." Morris did not say a word, but merely turned back to his dusting.

Mokuba's eyes rounded with shock as his mind grasped an idea which he simply couldn't let go of. "I…is that what you think?" he whispered, setting his tea cup down on the carpet. "You think that Seto's like our step-father?" The little boy leapt up for his seat and ran over to the ladder. "Morris, answer me!" he yelled, tugging at the pant leg of the old man. "Do you think that Seto is like Gozaburo?!"

Morris descended his ladder quickly. He then went onto one knee in front of Mokuba, and – having dropped his dusted – took the boy by the shoulders. "Now Master Mokuba," he said, his old voice shuddering. "You…_must_…not ask me such things. You know full well that it might lose me my position and–"

"Seto would never sack you!" Mokuba interjected. "Not after all the things you did for us when we were under our step-father. You always brought us candy, and gave us the books we wanted, and…and…" Mokuba was silence by Morris's look. It was quite clear that the old did anything but agree with the little boy. He did not think that Seto would spare him anything.

Mokuba tired a different approach. He _wanted_ to hear his brother praised! He wanted it ever so dearly! "But it was not his fault!" the boy declared. "Our step-father made him like this! It isn't Seto's fault! It…it can't be."

Morris smiled sadly and finally spoke, his grip strong on Mokuba's shoulders. "I will say this much Master Mokuba, and listen well, for it is the only time that you will ever hear me speak so. Your brother, though not yet nineteen and a half, looks to present himself as an adult. That, dear child, is quite fine, giving how he never had a true childhood. But for an adult to go blaming his imperfections of character on a man long dead, who provided both him and you with room and board, is more than a little foolish. I guaranty you that no one in six years time will say, 'Oh, but he had such a difficult childhood.' The old Mr. Kaiba has been dead for five years now. If your brother has not been able to change back to whom he was before he met your step-father, it may very well be because he does not want to."

Morris gave Mokuba's shoulders a last squeeze, then let go. He picked up his feather duster, and climbed back up his ladder. Mokuba, meanwhile, stood there as if paralyzed, mulling over in his head what Morris had said. _Didn't want to?!_

…

The words kept resounding in the boy's head as he made his way to the great KaibaCorp building. The harsh March wind pulled at his red scarf but he ignored it. Hands in mittens, mittens in pockets, Mokuba walked from the garage where he had ordered the limousine to be parked, to the great sliding glass doors of his brother's corporation.

Mokuba entered the building and was immediately greeted by all the occupants of the lounge. He smiled distractedly and gave them all an acknowledging nod of the head, before heading for the elevator. To a stranger the scene would have looked comical. There was a boy who only reached up to some of the adults' hips coming into the room and everyone greeting him like a superior. There was that same boy acknowledging these people in a fashion, and immediately rushing off to other business. It would really have been rather funny…could not the boy's brother have sacked any and all whom he thought were not bowing low enough.

Mokuba leaned back against the stainless steel elevator side, thinking. His eyebrows were creased, and the look of sever concentration did not suet his little face at all. Whose fault was it _really?_ Why _hadn't_ Seto changed back to his old self after Gozaburo's death? Was it…could it be…because he had not wanted to? Mokuba thought back to what Seto had once said to him. He had said it when the two of them had been locked in the depths of Noah's world. That had been when Mokuba had again begun to wonder what had become of the Seto he had known. That was when the old, deep wounds had been reopened. _'The past is over. I may not be proud of every decision I ever made, but everything I did, I did for us. Now let's move ahead…and don't look back.'_

_Don't look back…_ Mokuba closed his eyes. He had nodded then, and smiled. He had said 'Okay Seto,' and taken his brother's hand. But…but even now he did look back. If Seto had not been proud of every decision he had ever made…why hadn't he changed what he could change…_if_ he could.

To conclude, by the time the elevator had reached the hundredth and tenth floor, Mokuba had time to completely scramble his own reasoning so that his brains were nothing short of a mess. Apprehensive and slightly miserable, he made his way down the long hallway.

Mokuba nodded silently to the secretary who was sitting in her office next to his brother's. Her door was open for two reasons. One was so that she could hear Seto call for her when he needed, and the other was to be able to stop anyone who wanted to barge in on her boss without an appointment. Naturally, Mokuba did not fit into this latter category. So all too soon Mokuba found himself craning his neck up at the plaque on the door which read 'Chief Executive Officer/ Seto Kaiba.' He had never thought that he should be so nervous about coming into his brother's office. He raised his hand…and knocked.

"Yes, Ms. Cane?" asked a sharp voice form within. Mokuba could hear the continuous tapping on the computer keyboard. He had always marveled at how Seto could say something, yet never break his concentration from his work. It did not awe him today. Rather, it unnerved him. He opened the door a crack, and there he saw his brother slightly stooped over the screen of his computer.

"It's just me," he said, almost in a whisper.

Upon hearing his voice Kaiba looked up. Mokuba thought that he looked like one come out of a daze. He seamed in another world entirely. The world of computer chips and data. "Oh, hello Mokuba," he said distractedly. "Care to come in?" Mokuba did, but by the time he had closed the door after himself, his brother was already staring fixedly into the computer again.

The boy stood for a few minutes by the door, hovering awkwardly. He would usually go sit down on the couch in the room and read a book, just so that he could be with his brother, but no. This time he just stood there, until finally Seto turned again. "Eh… did you come for something Mokuba?" he asked. "I mean, did you need something from me?"

Mokuba looked at him. Now that the time had come, he was not sure that he had the courage. But then this came upon him in full force. Had he really been reduced to feeling meek and frightened of his own brother? Seto? The boy took a deep breath, "Well…I…I wanted to talk."

"Ah… maybe later Mokuba," the CEO said, looking back to his computer screen which held all his plans for the corporation's future. "I'm rather busy right now."

Mokuba had not just come thought the March outside, one hundred and ten flights of stairs and a particularly long hall way to be brushed off so easily. He decided to begin somewhere. Walking up the side of his brother's desk so that he could look at him, Mokuba took a deep shuddering breathe, and asked, "Why won't you call me Mokie anymore?"

For the first time Mokuba could remember, his brother's fingers halted over the key board. He looked up from the screen again and his blue eyes met Mokuba's as if he were only seeing his little brother for the first time. The two stayed like that for a few moments, until the older Kaiba snapped out of his trance. His gaze pulled away from Mokuba's, and he shrugged. "You're a big boy now," he muttered. "It doesn't seem to fit you any more." His spider like hands again began to dance across the keys.

"That's not true," Mokuba said bluntly, making his older brother look up again sharply, his hands stilling again. "It wasn't when I grew up. It was when _you_ grew up. You stopped calling me that when Gozaburo came along." The older Kaiba opened his mouth as if to argue, then, having nothing to say, let it snap shut again.

"Well!?" Mokuba demanded of his brother. "Am I right?! If I'm wrong, believe me I'd love to know it. But it's _true_ Seto! It's TRUE!" All the vexation and anger that had filled the boy since he and his brother had relived their lives in Noah's world seemed to be poring out now. "You've always told me that it was our step-father's fault that you're the way you are! And I always agreed. You know why? Because it _was_ his fault Seto! It was his fault when he was _alive!"_ Tears started to well up in the boy's eyes. He felt so very silly for having just come in here to throw a tantrum. But at the same time, he also felt very justified in doing so after all these years.

Seto's arms had dropped from his keyboard to grip the handles of his seat as if that might protect him in some way from his brother's railings. "Why don't you call me Mokie _now!_ Why don't you smile _now!_ Why is it that if you hated him so much you're still acting the way he taught you!?"

"Mokuba…I…I…" Kaiba was lost for words. His face, which was always pale from sitting so long before a computer and seeing the light of day so rarely, had turned paler yet.

"Do you even _remember_ who you were before we met Gozaburo?!" Mokuba continued, his voice now out of control with sobs and yells. "Do you even remember who our parents _were?!"_

"Now that's going too far!" Seto's booming voice resounded in the office. He rose to his full six feet. "NEVER speak to me about our parents Mokuba! NEVER!" his face, which had been pale only moments before, had turned a ruddy red. "Their _gone_ Mokuba! They died in a small town off Domino, called Teller, and there is NO POINT TALKING ABOUT THEM!" Yes, Seto remembered their parents. He remembered them _very_ well and no one, not even Mokuba, would challenge _that._

Mokuba coward under his brother's glaring eyes. He had never had his brother this mad at him. Never. The tears which had been accumulating in his eyes burst forth. He ran out of the office. He ran back down the hall. He cried freely in the elevator. He raced out of the lounge before he could be asked any questions. He ran out into the cold March air and cried the harder because no one was there to comfort him. He cried in the cold limousine that took him back to Kaiba Mansion. He pushed past Morris who had been waiting for him at the doors with his feather duster, and pelted up the red carpet staircase. Mokuba collapsed onto his bed in his room, and cried until his eyes were red and his throat was soar. One might have thought that he cried his very heart out.


	3. Christopher and Sofie

**Chapter 2 :: Christopher and Sofie**

Kaiba had returned to his typing after Mokuba left. His heart wasn't in it though. He would type, then halt over the keys, then peck at the board some more. Finally, he just gave it up.

Kaiba pushed his swivel chair out from under the desk. He let his elbows rest on the chair's arms and intertwined his fingers. Chin on hands, Kaiba stared out of the window. Kaiba Corp. was the tallest skyscraper in Domino. When he had begun plans for building it he had told the Head Architect that he wanted an undisturbed view of clouds. So that was what he got. At times the clouds would come right up to his window and he wouldn't be able to see a thing through them. However, at the moment, the sky was almost completely blue with only a few tufts of white in the distance.

The sun was shining on the other side of the building. That had been something else that Kaiba had planned. He did not want to have it burning down on him when there were not enough clouds to hide it. But Kaiba took none of this in now. If the weather had reflected the state of Kaiba's mind at the moment the rain would be hurling down in sheets. Hurricanes would be uprooting trees. Twisters would be sweeping away whole cities.

One might not have been able to tell from the way that he kept totally calm or by the way he had let the side of one foot lie sideways on the knee of the other that his brain was in complete chaos. He was squeezing his hands together so tightly that the knuckles had become white.

_What did I do wrong?_ He kept churning the question over in his head. _What did I do wrong?_ In the depth of his frozen soul Kaiba knew all too well what it was. It was the thing that still gave him nightmares. Noah's Virtual world. Kaiba gave the very slightest of shudders. Every once in a while the CEO would wake with a start in the night. Every once in a while he would remember how Mokuba had yelled at him for how he had changed before his younger brother fell into the abyss.

He had caught him then, but he never did in the dreams. In Kaiba's dreams – nightmares – he would lunge forward to grab his brother's hand, and would miss. Kaiba breathed in shakily. As much as he could love anyone, he did love Mokuba. He pushed the hair out of his eyes. His hand shook and he could feel the perspiration matted against his head. Mokuba's little voice came busting back into his mind. _Do you even remember who our parents where?!_

Yes. Kaiba remembered. And no one in the world – not even his brother – would say otherwise. He had been little but his mind had been as acute at it was now.

He moved his elbows onto his knees and let his face fall into his hands. He rubbed his face lightly as if he had just woken up. Yes. He remembered very, very well…

…

Seto laughed when Owen finished his story about the prank he had pulled last April Fools.

"Honest to God," said Owen, "She though that her 'usband had done it! It was sure a sight, me out on the pine tree, and them to having a holler about it inside!" he grinned gleefully, his party hat askew on his head.

"Damn it I wish I could have been there," Seto said, leaning his chair back so that it teetered on its back two legs only. He rubbed his cake filled tummy contentedly.

"Ya can come next year," said Owen dismissively as he dug into his (fourth?) slice of birthday cake. "And this time," he pushed his hat back so that it stood straight on his head, "I'll be ten."

"Big deal," Seto laughed, letting the chair fall back on four legs. "I'm three weeks older than you, incase you've forgotten."

"How could he forget? You don't exactly shut up about it," Mokie piped up. His face was all smeared in chocolate cake.

It was Owen's tenth birthday. He was a plump red haired boy with more freckles then one could count. He and Seto had once tried. After two hours they had given it up. Owen was the only other boy in their class who had blue eyes. He was Irish, and Seto had always laughed at his accent. Not spitefully. After all, he and Seto were the best of friends. Seto and Mokuba had been the only ones invited to Owen's party and they had been having a grand time of it.

Seto leapt up and grabbed the flashlight on the kitchen counter. He switched off the lights, then turned on his flashlight. It illuminated his face and gave him dark holes where the eyes should have been.

"There was once…" he said in a crackly voice, "a four year old boy…named MOKIE!"

"That in itself ought to scare the socks off anyone," said Owen's voice.

"Ha…ha…ha," came Mokie's sarcastic, slow laughter.

"Mokie was watching TV one day…" Seto continued, "just like any other little boy…when suddenly – the door bell rang!"

At that precise moment the loud, shrill sound of Owen's door bell went buzzing though the house. Mokie gasped, Owen swore – it was so heavily accented that even years later Seto could never be quite sure that it _was_ a swear – and Seto gagged.

Within an instant all three were under the kitchen table on which the cake was situated.

They did not move. But the door bell kept ringing. Finally Seto mustered up some courage and crawled out from under the table. He walked over to the wall where the light switch was. He turned on the lights and turned the flashlight off.

Then he slowly walked to the door. He looked back to see Owen clambering out form under the table as well. Seto was not tall enough to look thought the spy hole but he knew something was wrong. Owen's parents had said that they would not come home until nine and it was only seven now. Seto's parents were not due to pick him and Mokuba up until the next day.

Hesitantly Seto took the key off nail next to the door and turned the lock. Taking in a huge breath he opened the door. Dr. O'Conner, Owen's father, was standing in the door way. He looked terrible.

"Forgot my keys," he explained. "I'm sorry boys, but I have to take Seto right now," he said grimly. "Moki, I think it would be best if you stayed. Owen's mother can take care of you for the night."

"But I want to go with Seto," Mokie came out from under the table. He looked ready to cry now. It was clear that the doorbell had given the four year old boy a real fight, and now he had to let Seto leave. "Can't I come?" he pleaded.

"I really do think it would be best if you stayed," Dr. O'Conner said firmly. He placed a hand on Seto's shoulder. "Come on Seto," he whispered.

"'Old it pap," said Owen. He walked up to Seto. It was a bit shorter than him, but that didn't matter. Well, it didn't matter to Seto. It might have mattered just a little to Owen. "See ya later Huck," he said, grinning.

Seto, who had not smiled since the door bell rung, let a smirk slide across his face. "Right back at you, Tom." They had read Mark Twain's 'Adventures Tom Sawyer,' a few months before in class. The same recess that they had finished it they went out, wrote that they were brothers, and sealed it with blood just as Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Fin had done.

The next moment, however, Seto found himself alone with Dr. O'Conner in the front yard. "Sir, what's this all about?" he asked.

"It's your parents," he said quietly.

"What about them?" Dr. O'Conner just shook his head, swallowing hard in the growing darkness.

Seto was quiet as they drove though the town of his birth. The sun had only set recently, and the reds and oranges could still be seen dully in the west. He did not know where he was being taken until it was right in front of him.

- L

Seto's eyes winded. No. No! All those ghost stories that he, Own and Moki had been throwing around all evening came back to him with a thud of paranoia. It could not be what he was thinking. It _should_ not be! Seto fumbled with the buckle on his seat belt. The second he was free, he pelted out of the back seat. He heard Dr. O'Conner calling after him but Seto knew he had to go and park the car. He wouldn't come after him.

The ten year old skidded on the tiled floor in the Reception Room. "Hello," he said to whoever was at the desk. He was too small to see.

A woman with blond hair leaned over and looked at him. "Why hello there," she said with a smile. "And how can I help you, young man?"

"Could you please tell me where the Kochis' are situated," he said curtly, not smiling back.

"Certainly," said the woman, and disappeared behind her desk again. Seto only had to wait a moment before her face reappeared. She was no longer smiling. "I'm sorry," she said, "but you'll have to tell me who you are. Only relations are permitted."

Seto's heart raced. "I'm Seto Kochi," he said. "I'm…their son."

"Is anyone with you?"

"He went to… He dropped me off." Seto didn't want to wait for Dr. O'Conner.

The lady's face disappeared again. This time she came out from behind the counter, and offered him her hand. "Here, come with me," she said softly.

Seto took her hand and she led him down the hall to the elevator. The two of them got in and she pushed the button for the fifth floor. After a moment of silence Seto whispered, "What's wrong with them?"

The lady squeezed his hand. "You should ask the doctor, dear," she said softly. He had asked a doctor. Both Owen's father and mother worked at this hospital. Perhaps that was how they had heard about… about whatever had happened… so fast.

It seemed to take an age for the elevator to reach the fifth floor. Dr. O'Conner must already be walking to the hospital from the parking lot. Or would he be running? Seto held the lady's hand tightly in his own. Finally, the stainless steel doors slid open.

Seto followed the woman down the hall. Everything was white here. He tried to peek into some of the rooms that they passed, but he couldn't distinguish anything.

"Doctor Vest," Seto looked up at the lady again. She was calling down to a man across the hall.

"What is it Ms. Jenkins?" the man asked, coming towards her. He was dressed in all white too. His hair was a mop of black curls. Seto liked him. He had a nice smile and there was something in his eyes that seemed fierce, as if he would never give up a fight.

"Doctor," the woman hesitated, holding Seto's hand up a little to indicate to him. "This is one of the Kochi boys," she finally said.

The smile that had made Dr. Vest's face to bright and cheerful seemed to have a cloud pass over it. But if anything the determination in his eyes burned brighter. "Very well, come with me, boy. What's your name?"

"Seto."

"Seto, come with me."

Ms. Jenkins gave the doctor Seto's hand and they two presided down the hall. There was a pair of double doors at the end of the hall. Seto had just enough time to read "Emergency Room" on one of them, before the doctor pushed it open. Then he halted, as if he had only just remembered something. He went down on one knee so that he would be just below Seto's eye level. "Now listen to me, Seto," he said, gripping both shoulders. "I need to ask you something, and I need you to answer truthfully. This is not the place for false courage."

Seto nodded.

"Do you get sick at the sight of blood?"

Seto's heart leapt into his throat. He opened his mouth, but only a gurgling sound came out. He was shaking. But the doctor did not rush him. He did not jump to conclusions. Seto saw himself reflected in his soft brown eyes. "I…don't know, sir," he finally croaked.

The doctor never lost contact. "We shall see," he said, and stood back up. He took Seto's hand again and led him to the back of the Emergency Room. Seto saw old people in most of the beds that he passed. They all had curtains between them so that they would not have to look at each other. At the very end of the room a curtain separated a larger space than it had before, as if there were more than one person beyond it.

Seto was terrified. As the doctor reached out a hand to pull back the curtain enough for him to go in Seto realized that if he had stayed home none of this would have seemed real to him. It would have seemed as if his parents had just gone away and had never come back. When he saw them…it would all be real.

Seto entered the closed off space – just a few ten-year-old's steps – and his world shattered. There they were, lying in bunks right next to each other. "Mom…Dad…" he whispered. An eon passed. "I'd like to be alone with them, please." Seto heard the rustling of the curtain as Dr. Vest, with a last squeeze to his shoulder, left his side.

Seto heard whispering outside the curtain. It was relatively far away; probably the other end of the ward. One voice belonged to Dr. Vest. The other was a woman's – a nurse, perhaps.

"I only just got in. I was detained with little girl is bed eight…I think she'll make it. But how are they?" The doctor whispered, obviously thinking that they were out of Seto's earshot.

"We lost him about half an hour ago," the other voice whispered. "She won't last the night."

Seto was numb. Silently he walked over to the left bunk, the one where his father was. He looked at the man. He was not bandaged…not any more at least. There was a sever gash across his head, but it had been cleaned up. Seto stared at the wound on the man's head. He had never seen a real mortal wound. He'd only seen them on TV. Seto's eyes then shifted onto the man's face. Mr. Christopher Kochi. Seto had known him as a ruddy man. His cheeks had never lost their color, and the smile had always been on his face. Now, however, his face looked drained and pale.

The little boy reached out and clasped his father's hand. It was already cold. Seto didn't cry. He didn't yet believe. He looked back up at the face he had known so well. His mother had always said that Seto looked like him. Seto examined his father's face. His dark brown hair had been pushed back behind his ears. Seto knew he would never have wanted that. His father's hair had never been tidy.

Still holding him with one hand, Seto reached out with the other and ruffled his hair. Seto…did not open the man's eyes. He did not want to see his father staring into space with those dead eyes. Seto swallowed, remembering how his mother had always marveled at how blue and clear both their eyes had been…

"Seto?"

The voice made Seto jump. He jolted around. His mother, who had been sleeping up till then, had woken up. Unlike his father, for whom bandages were no longer any good, his mother had some sort of tube going around the whole of her chest. Her rib cage had been crushed.

"Mom!" Seto let go of his father's hand and ran the few steps to that of his mother. She was the most beautiful woman in the world in his opinion. He was glad Mokie looked like her. Her hair was strewn all over the pillow, and her deep green eyes where fogged, but she was alive! He squeezed her hand in his own. It was warm! "It's okay Mom," he whispered. "You're gonna get better. You're gonna be fine and– "

His mother let go of his hand and placed a finger on his lips. "Shhh…" she whispered. "Seto…I…I have to tell you something." She smiled weakly. "I," she coughed. Grabbing a towel from her bed side table she put it to her mouth. Seto was horrified to see it was covered in blood. After a few minutes she put it down. She was paler than ever. "Seto…I'm not leaving," she muttered faintly.

Seto smiled boldly, even as his heart ached. "Of coarse you're not! Why, we'll have you out'a here in–"

"Seto, try to understand." Her eyes bore into his. "I'm not gonna be here for very long. I'm going away. But you will always find me," she lifted her hand faintly, and placed it on Seto's chest. On his heart. "You can find me in here…and in Mokie." Another weak smile flittered across her waning face. "My little Mokie…" she whispered deliriously.

"Seto, you must promise me," she said more firmly, her hand clamping onto Seto's sweater. "You must take care of each other. You _must."_

Tears were welling up in Seto's eyes, and he put his hand over hers. "D…don't leave me," he whispered.

"Promise me."

Seto did his best to keep his voice from shaking. His eyes never left his mother's. "I promise," he whispered.

His mother's hand relaxed and she looked away from her son. Her eye lids drooped but Seto still held her hand close to his heart. "That's a good boy," she muttered faintly. "Remember…I'll always be there," her fingertips brushed against his chest. "Always… And so will your father. We're always there…"

"B…but what do I tell Mokie?" pleaded Seto.

His mother did not look at him, but smiled at the ceiling. "Tell him we'll all meet again some day…and until then, that he has you…"

All of a sudden her hand tightened on Seto's. She lifted her other hand and gestured for Seto to lean closer. The boy stood on his tip-toes and leaned over his mother. She pressed him to her and kissed him again and again on the cheek and forehead, pushing his hair back to see him the better. "Kiss me Seto…" she whispered. "Kiss me."

Seto wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheeks, and her eye lids and her hair. Then he with his little lips, he kissed her mouth. He felt her warm breath on his nose and heard her sigh. He did not feel it again. Seto looked back up into her eyes. They were lightless. Seto put his hand up and felt her cheek. It was still warm. Then his put his head down onto her bossism…and did not hear the heartbeat.

Now the tears gushed out. Seto clutched at his mother's hands. He kissed them. He caressed them. The full impact of what had happened washed over him. He threw his arms around her again. Her head seemed impossibly heavy now and just lulled from one side to the other.

Seto slid onto the floor and hugged himself, rocking back and forth. His tears were silent. He did not make a sound. He did not breathe a sigh. He just cried, and sniffled, and cried again. And every time he would stop he would stand up and go to one of his parent and kiss them and hold them and cry again.

He realized later that only a very little time must have passed, as quite suddenly Dr. O'Connor had burst in through the curtain, and Seto was bawling into his sweater, Dr. Vest's hand pressed firmly on his back.

…

Kaiba's eyes snapped open. His face was still in his hands. He let them drop and leaned back in his swivel chair again. There was a large knot in his throat. It was funny, but so long as he did not think about _that_ day it never seemed to him as if his parents had actually died. It seemed as if the fact that they were gone was accepted, but not real.

Yet all he had to do was remember that night…

He remembered how later, in the orphanage, Mokuba would never understand why they were there. He would keep asking Seto where Mom and Dad were. It had been nine years since that car crash. In those nine years Seto had changed beyond recognition.

Kaiba used his feet to pull himself in his chair back to his desk. After shuffling around in his drawers for a few minutes Kaiba found what he was looking for. It was a photograph. It was crumpled and dirty, but that didn't matter. Kaiba flattened it out on his desk.

Yes…there they were. There was his father, his hair like a mop, wearing a pair of glasses with gigantic lenses which gave him an almost comical appearance. He had his arm on Seto's shoulder. Kaiba squinted at himself. He looked so happy. So…different.

And there…Kaiba looked at the person next to him. There, holding a baby in her arms, was Sofie Kochi. Her long black hair fell in an untidy mess on her shoulders and her eyes seemed aglow with laughter. A smile, a very fleeting smile, turned Kaiba's lips. It was just like the smile he wore when he looked at his brother.

His brother… Kaiba put the photograph on the desk and leaned back in his seat. He put his arms behind his head, thinking.

_"Why don't you call me Mokie _now!_ Why don't you smile _now!_ Why is it that if you hated him so much you're still acting the way he taught you!?"_

Why did he act the way he acted? Kaiba had never really questioned it beyond 'what must be done, must be done.' True, he had a company to run and he could not stand for tomfoolery, but he could not deny that there were a good number of CEOs, like himself, who were far more at ease than he ever was. The pressure of his age, then? No. At this point his age had become one of his more intimidating fronts: a stark reminded that he had usurped of his step-father's company before even touched twenty… before even touching fifteen. No, his age did not undermine his authority. Was he because, as a child, he had been _molded _to Gozaburo's? No, that would be saying that Gozaburo had won, and Kaiba would never allow for that. But then…what was it?

Kaiba got no work done that day. He sat at his desk, staring at the photograph of his family. What _was_ it?! It was only when the sun had set – even to the hundredth and tenth floor – that Kaiba began to touch on the truth.

He was afraid. Yes. Deep down in his heart of hearts, he was frightened. He was frightened of changing again. He was frightened that if he tried to change he would find that all the emotions he had gone without for so long were really and truly dead. Irretrievable. He was frightened to open up even, to an extent, to Mokuba. He did not want to disappoint him. He did not want to be half a person: some one who wanted to have emotions but did not have them. He did not want to be a pathetic wreck.

The way he was, he was safe. He was thought not to show his emotion. None knew that he _had_ no emotion to show. _Are you a coward?_ said a voice in his head that sounded all too much like his step-father.

Kaiba looked down at the photograph again. He stared down at his father's face. _Am I?_ he wondered. His mother had always said that he and his father looked alike. He couldn't see that now. Chistoph's face was cracked into a smug grin, as if had had spent the better part of his life laughing. His hair was untidy as if a gust of wind, or a gentle hand, had played with it. His shirt was dirty as if he had been cooking of working in a garden. The two men could not have been more different.

Kaiba touched the photographs edge. It had taken him all his cunning to keep this one picture out of his step-father's grasp. The first thing Gozaburo had done when he had adopted him and Mokuba was burn the photo album Seto had taken with him from their house. But Kaiba had saved this one…

He looked at the little baby in his mother's arms. Mokuba could not have been more than half a year old when this picture was taken. The young CEO looked back at himself and his father. That was the father who should have been his role model. That was the man whose footsteps he should have followed.

…

Kaiba came home very late that night. He was more tired than he had been for weeks, not because he had spent the entire day juggling million dollar deals, but because for the last several hours he had been reliving the very molding of his character. Even as Kaiba pushed the oak door open, a rare yawn crept into his mouth. He covered it with his hand. He had not been so tired since he had lost to Yugi…again. That had robbed him of a good deal of sleep.

Kaiba shook his head, as if that would knock some sleep out of him. He brushed some stray hairs out of his face. He needed sleep. He looked around bleary eyed, and was just about to call out for Morris when here came Old Raison Face himself.

"Sir!" he cried out. "Oh, thank goodness you've come! Sir, I'm so sorry. I'm so dreadfully sorry! You weren't answering your calls at the company!" No, he hadn't been. He had been thinking. What was it to the Old- to Kaiba's total shock there were tears trickling between the wrinkles of the old man's face. "Sir, Forgive me. It's all my fault." He was wringing his withered hands as if he wanted to break them.

"Get a hold of yourself, man!" Kaiba barked. He was in a very short tempered mood as it was. "Well? What's the matter? Have you bought the wrong flavor tea? Are the new feather dusters made from the wrong bird? What is it!?" There was no missing the mockery in Kaiba's tone. He needed to vent. And Morris was there.

"I should never have answered his questions this morning!" Morris spluttered, pulling out a large handkerchief from his chest pocket and dabbing it on his wet prune of a face. "I should have kept my peace as I have done for the last many years! Oh, when I think of the poor little toad coming home crying as if his world had shattered!" this brought more tears to the old man's eyes.

"For God's sake, will you tell me what the matter is?" Kaiba bellowed. He was not understanding a word of Morris's gibberish and he was not about to try.

"It's Master Mokuba, Sir!" faltered Morris. "He…he's run away." And the next moment this old man, who had nothing left to live for except for that one little boy whom he could pamper and adore, who had always been kind to him and who always would be, this old man broke down sobbing on his master's shoulder.

Kaiba stood dumbstruck. Mokuba was gone? He had run away? Why? But he didn't need to think of an answer. He thought that he knew. The young CEO noticed the old man sobbing on his shoulder. Almost unconsciously, he began to pat him on the back whereas a night ago he would most likely have knocked him off like a fly.

When the old man's shoulders stopped trembling so violently he pulled away from Kaiba. His eyes, bug eyed as they had always been, were now red and swollen from all his tearing. "So, Sir," Morris swallowed audibly, his breath rattling in his chest. He dabbed at his red eyes again. "What are we to do?"

Kaiba stared off into the distance, still in a state of shock. "Don't tell anyone what has happened. Tell the servants to keep their mouths shut. I don't want anyone knowing that Mokuba's not under my protection." Horrible scenes were flashing before Kaiba's eyes.

Mokuba, his body prostrated on the floor of a dungeon cell in Pegasus's castle, heavy maniacs attached to his legs. Mokuba, hanging by a rope from Marik's helicopter, screaming for his big brother. Mokuba, his eyes lightless, shielding Noah from Kaiba's attack – an attack that would destroy any who got in its way.

Pegasus, Marik, Noah. Those three had tried to use his little brother to get to him. Kaiba would not allow there to be a fourth. He was not going to allow anyone to think that Mokuba was not safe at home and under his protection.

"I'll round them up immediately," Morris said, his weak voice now trembling with determination. "But…what will you do, Sir?"

Kaiba's face, though weary with need of sleep, was set. "I'm going to go look for my little brother."


	4. To Stoop So Low as Friends

Chapter 4 :: To Stoop So Low as Friends

Kaiba sat cross legged in the back of his limousine. There were dark shadows under his eyes. He had not slept all night. True, he had stayed awake for twenty four hours at a time before, finishing a program that was dead-lined for the next day. But never had he been awake for twenty four hours with his every nerve on fire with fear and dread.

"Aright Rolland, pull up here," he ordered. As the limousine came to a halt Kaiba leaned over to the driver's seat. "If anyone sees anything, call my cell phone immediately," he said hoarsely. It seemed as it he had not spoken for years. "Meanwhile, don't stop searching."

All that day Kaiba ran from street to street. He had left his trench coat at back at the mansion. It would have made him too conspicuous. The last thing he wanted was people asking what had gotten Seto Kaiba so worked up. That would lead with questioning, and that could be dangerous for Mokuba. So, wearing an ordinary leather belt instead of the one with the emblem of Kaiba Corp. for a buckle, and having taken the blue ribbons off of his upper arms, Kaiba ran. He ran down main streets and through side alleys. He had to do this personally, just as he had had to rescue Mokuba from Pegasus personally. There were no more than three other men even now who knew that his little brother had gone missing, and who were aiding in the search. Kaiba looked in all of Mokuba's favorite candy stores, and in all the parks, but he could not find him.

It was already five in the afternoon when Kaiba stopped. He put his hands on his knees and stood there, panting. The cold March air bit at his cheeks, his hair stuck to his sweaty face, and his eyes were red. Without having noticed it, he had started crying as he ran. He mopped the sweat and tears away with his sleeve. Then, out from under his shirt, he pulled a locket.

The outside of the locket was in the shape of a Duel Monster's Card. Kaiba opened it, and a wry smile pulled at his chapped and dry lips. His heartbeat slowed gently. In the locket was a photograph of his little brother from back when the two of them had been at the orphanage. He was holding a chess piece in his hand, and was laughing.

Kaiba snapped the locket closed and tucked it back under his shirt. He would not give up. He _could_ not give up.

Kaiba stumbled around for another hour, and another, his eyes searching every pack of children that blundered by him. The cold wind made him numb. Kaiba hardly noticed when he began to leave the heart of the city. He had been awake since six o'clock the previous morning.

On one of the streets leading out of Domino, he collapsed on a bench. He let his head sink into his hands, his fingers intertwining with his sweaty and matted hair. The frost had turned them slightly blue. _What now?_ _Do you actually expect to find him on your own? You could search every inch of this city, and he would be in another part entirely. And how long do you expect no one to notice that Mokuba is not visiting you in your office?_ Kaiba's grip tightened on his hair, as if he thought that if he wrenched it out, he could wrench his misgivings out as well.

Sighing though his nose, Kaiba looked up into the distance. He did not fix his gaze on anything in particular. He just stared, his brain churning. The sun was making its descent already. If he were in his office he would see it for an hour longer than the people down on the streets. Half dowsing, he looked at the clouds which were already turning different shades of orange and red.

A loud burst of laughter shattered the peaceful silence. Kaiba's head shot up. He had been resting it on his chest. He blinked for a minute, not understanding where he was. The sun had set, and the clouds were now a deep magenta and violet. The wind had picked up and Kaiba shivered. He did not have a nose anymore. He was sure of it. Kaiba leapt up in alarm. He had been sitting here sleeping while his brother was Heaven knows where. He had not made three steps in one direction when, from the other end of the street, he heard an all too familiar voice.

"I'm tellin' ya those idiots never new what hit them!" said a boastful Brooklyn accent. "I mean, it was like dueling a bunch of babies. I had them on their knees _begging_ for mercy!"

"Right," said another voice. "So tell us, was it while they were 'on their knees' that one of them gave you that black and blue on your head?"

"Shuddup!" Again, laughter echoed through the street.

Kaiba turned around. He knew those voices. The first had belonged to Joey Wheeler. The second had belonged to his best friend, Tristan Tailor. In Kaiba's opinion Joey was the dregs of society and his friend was not much better. But when he saw just where the voices were coming from, his heart missed a beat. It was The Game Shop. It belonged to the grandfather of Kaiba's greatest rival, Yugi Motou. Kaiba was about to turn on his heals and stock off, not looking back. Out of all the places in Domino he had had to collapse, it was on Yugi's doorstep. It Kaiba had believed in higher powers, then at that moment he would have done his utmost to sue the Administration of On High for this very poor joke.

The laughter came again and something occurred to Kaiba. He had ignored his own thoughts before, but he had been right. Kaiba could not find Mokuba on his own. He did need help, and there were very few in his circle of acquaintances that he trusted – it came with being high in the business pecking order. There, in that quiet street, where the only sound was the occasional rustle of the wind and the laughter of a few teenagers, there, where the clouds were already blackening and cold night was descending, Seto Kaiba waged with himself one of the greatest wars of his life. He could walk away, and refuse the help of the persons whom he hated more than any in the world except his step father. Or he could go crawling to them, begging for their assistance. If he walked away he would preserve his pride, which he cherished as dearly as his life. If he stayed, he would have a better chance of finding his brother.

Kaiba took in a deep breath, and shut his eyes. His hands clenched into fists. _What am I going to do…_

His pride caved in around him. He turned around and stalked to the other end of the street.

"You should be grateful that it wasn't Kaiba that nailed you with his fist. I mean, the last time he knocked you to the ground at school he didn't even break a sweat, and you were out cold for five minutes. 'Corse, there isn't much chance of you crushing him a duel so totally that he would be _compelled_ to knock your brains out." Tristan's voice came leaking out into the street.

Kaiba smirked. _Too true._

"Oh ya?!" Joey's voice reached Kaiba just as he was stretching his numb hand out for the doorknob. "Well I tell ya what. Next time I see Ol' Money Bags, I'll challenge him to a duel, and when he loses, I'll show you who'll knock whose brains out!"

"I'd take you up on that Wheeler, if I wasn't so busy at the moment," Kaiba's cool voice blew into the shop along with the March wind. The warm air inside washed over him, and he closed the door behind him, surveying the scene, the bell attached to the door tickling dully. There were three people leaning against the counter, who had been whispering softly. These were a girl with shoulder length brown hair, the old man who owned the shop, and his grandson, Yugi Motou. Yugi looked as if he had been dunked in a bucket of tie-dye, head first. His hair rose in spikes and was three different colors: red, black and yellow. However, the most humiliating thing about his having defeated Kaiba in countless duels was that he was no taller than Mokuba… and that was with the hair.

Closer to the door were two other fingers. One was the blond teenager named Joey who had a very ugly bruise circling one eye, and the other was his brunet friend, Tristan. The two looked very close to fists themselves. "…as it is," Kaiba continued, "You haven't any brains that I could knock out anyway, so our fight would be rather fruitless, wouldn't you say?"

No one said anything. They were all staring at Kaiba with a look of total shock. Instead of his imposing trench coat Kaiba wore a black, long sleeve shirt and black pants. He looked tired, his hair was a mess, and in general his appetence was not nearly as impressive as it usually was. Still, he straightened up to his full six feet, and crossed his arms smugly. This did improve his stature but then, Kaiba did not know that his nose was bright red from the cold, and this gave him a _slightly_ comical appearance.

"Tough words for someone who comes in looking like Rudolf," Joey sneered.

It took all of Kaiba's self control not to send him sprawling across the room. To think that he should stoop so low as this! He raised his head a bit higher. "I didn't come here to exchange insults with a mutt," his gaze shifted to Yugi, "I came because I you're your assistance." There, the words were out of him. His pride did not matter one twink now, and he had said what he had come to say. Now all he could do was wait for the verdict.

Joey, who was quite steamed about the 'mutt' comment, was the first to answer. "Let me get this straight," he gloated. "Ya come here, ya insult us, and then ya want our help? Well fat chance!"

Those were the golden words. Now Kaiba could punch him with no consequences. He could unleash all the vexation and anger he felt. In two strides he was across the room, had Joey by the collar and lifted him a few inches off the ground. "Now listen to me, Wheeler," he hissed. "If you think I enjoy lowering myself so greatly as having to ask the likes of you for help, you're deeply mistaken. I wouldn't have come here if I wasn't on my last resort and you can bet your entire pathetic deck on that." He let Joey collapse onto the ground, gasping for air, and turned on his heals. That _did _feel a little gratifying.

Kaiba was almost at the door when something waist high blocked his path. "Out of my way, Yugi," he snarled. "Unlike you I can't stand around dawdling."

"Let him go Yugi," Tristan said, bending over Joey. "He probably just needs a few messenger boys to spread the news of a new tournament or something."

"If you're really that much of a Neanderthal, perhaps I should inform you during the evolution of the human race, e-mail has been invented," Kaiba said without turning back.

"What–" Yugi said loudly, ore-speaking Tristan and Joey, "–do you need our help with?"

"Wheeler's already made it clear that your assistance isn't available," Kaiba said curtly. All he wanted to do now was get out. He had to find Mokuba. He would run the whole of Domino in a day again if he had to, but he would find him!

"That's Joey's choice," said Yugi, crossing his arms. "But the rest of us haven't said yes or no, have we?"

Kaiba's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why would you _want_ to help me?" he said.

A smirk twitched on Yugi's face. "Because as you said yourself, you'd have to be up to your ears in trouble to us."

Hearing his own words, rephrased, come back at him, was quite the shoke. For a moment he just stared at the smug face, which he had to bend over a little to see. Then something snapped inside of him, he breathed out though his nose and the complete fatigue of the last two days came bursting out of whatever Second Wind chamber they had been hiding in, and flooded through the whole of his body, down to his very fingertips. His shoulders slumped, his head came forward, showing his disheveled hair, and his eyes became moist with water that he _was not_ showing in front of these losers.

"Come here, son," Mr. Motou – Yugi's grandfather – said, steering Kaiba to the seat behind the counter.

Everyone gathered around and waited to Kaiba to begin. He propped his elbows on the counter and rubbed his face again until it was clean of sweat and tears, though still very red. His arms felt so _heavy._ He then bushed his hair back out of his face. Finally, after what seemed like an age of silence, he looked up at all of them. For the first time that any of them could remember, the young CEO was not looking at them with contempt, but with raw desperation. "It's Mokuba."

Joey looked as it he was about to interrupt, but Tea nudged him. "Yesterday…Mokuba and I had…had a row." Kaiba's voice was trembling. He was talking to his hands. They were more familiar companions than the Geek Squad in front of him. He could not _believe_ that he was telling these people a part of his personal life. His life was his to keep till death. Well, death was death, but desperation drove him onward. The sooner he finished, the sooner he would not be at anyone's mercy again. "He told me that I was the way Gozaburo made me because I wanted to be," his voice was regaining its old strength. He looked up at them, daring any of them to confirm the statment. "He told me that I could never be the same as I had been. He challenged me to whether I even remembered our parents," a fire kindled in Kaiba's eyes which made the wet circles of blue shine brighter.

"…I lost it then," he said quietly. The cold wind howled outside. "I yelled at him. He left my office crying," Kaiba ran his hand through his hair again, pushing it out of his eyes. "I came home last night and my butler told me he had run away." He looked back up at all of them, not seeing them. "I…I have to find him before anyone else does…Before another Pegasus gets wind that he's not with me. I've been looking for him ever since last night…" He fixed his eyes on the door. He had to get out there…he had to find Mokuba.

_Kaiba…Kaiba!_ A voice was sounding in his ear. "KAIBA!" Kaiba blinked. Yugi's grandfather was shaking his shoulder.

"Kaiba, when did you last sleep?" Yugi asked. Kaiba made an indistinct noise, and rubbed his face with one hand.

"Ya know, a nap?" Tristan said helpfully.

"Two to six AM of the twelfth," Kaiba said promptly, if blearily, not seeing of what relevance the conversation was.

"The twelfth!" Joey's yell boomed in Kaiba's ear. _Oh, the pain._

"Kaiba, that was the day before yesterday! For four hours!" _Female voice equals the she-creature who spews friendship speeches…_

Kaiba shrugged. "I'm a light sleeper."

"Yes, and if you stay awake much longer you'll get light headed as well," said the old man at this shoulder. What was he, his nanny?

Kaiba got up shakily. "I don't have time for that," he said. It was already quite dark outside. "I have to find my brother before anyone else does."

Joey put out an arm to stop him. "Hold it," he said in his Brooklynian twang. "We'll help you, right?" he turned to the others. They all nodded. "But you need a snooze," he said, turning back to Kaiba. "What happens if you pass out and we find your brother? Our situation wouldn't have changed much, would it? We'd still be one Kaiba short. Here's my idea. You come over to my place and take a nap. My sister's not in for a week, so you can have her room. That way we'll be able to reach you if we find anything. Meanwhile, the rest of us will take on the night shift? How do ya think?"

Kaiba brushed Joey's arm off his shoulder. "Thanks but no thanks, Wheeler. I accept your help, but I'm not going to be sleeping while my brother's out there." His first few steps were firm. Then the freezing air of the March night hit his face. He became over come by nausea, and was forced to sit down right on the sidewalk.

***

Kaiba felt himself being shaken awake. Was he late for work? He never slept in. "Oy, Kaiba. It's time for ya to get up!" Joey's voice came knocking into his head. Kaiba's eyes snapped open. Joey was leaning over him. His nose and cheeks were red, he had dark patches under his eyes and the hand with which he grabbed Kaiba's shoulder was cold.

Kaiba sat up, and propped himself on his arms. Someone had covered him with some sort of quilt. "Where am I?" he asked, looking around the room groggily. It had pink curtains. There were pictures of different movie stars all over. When Kaiba threw his head back to crack his neck he found himself looking at the biggest poster in the room – one of himself. His mouth twitched into a smirk. It was the closest thing he had worn to a smile since Mokuba had come into his office. "Wheeler, tell me this isn't your room, 'cause if it is I'm going to have a heart attack from laughter."

Joy looked up. Obvious displeasure showed on his face when he saw the poster. "Oh, that. No, this is my sister's room. What she sees in you I can't get. She's fit for a king. And don't flatter yourself," he sneered. "I've got my eyes on someone a bit more shapely."

"That wouldn't be Valentine, would it?" Kaiba said, still looking up at himself. "You were practically drooling over her through the semi-finals of my tournament."

"Shuddup."

Kaiba's smirk widened.

"Bad news I'm afraid," Joey said, rubbing his cold hands together. "The lot of us searched all night. We didn't find a trace."

This sentence came crashing down of Kaiba like an anvil. He had leapt out of bed and was at the door before Joey could bate an eyelash. "I've got to find him!" he yelled like a mad man. "I have to– uff!" Kaiba was tackled from behind.

"Hold it!" Joey yelled, pinning him down as best he could. He was only managing it because Kaiba was still utterly exhausted. "You anit going anywhere, ya dolt!" he said.

"Just get off me, Wheeler," Kaiba snarled, but even as he fought to throw the mutt off him, he felt sick. What was wrong with him? He let out a groan.

"Ya see?" said Joey. "Ya threw up the second you came out of the store. Threw up, passed out. Then we had to lug you to my place because I'm the only one who had extra room. Now you're not goin' anywhere until ya get some food in ya? Capish?" After a moment of grudging silence he got off of Kaiba's back. The CEO had stopped struggling.

He put his hands under Kaiba's arms and helped him up. "Kaiba, it seems you have to learn a few things about life. To live, ya have to eat. The more you eat, the better ya live. And so…to the kitchen!" Propping Kaiba up, Joey hobbled him to the kitchen.

He them deposited the CEO at his kitchen table, and began whizzing around. Just _looking _at him was fatiguing. "How long did I sleep?" he asked as Joey ran around the room.

"Well, you keeled over at about seven," said Joey, opening drawers and shelves. "And I just woke you up at eight, so figure a good thirteen house."

Kaiba smirked. "That's more than I've slept for a month," he said, his voice coming out muffled as he rubbed sleep out of his face.

"Voilà!" said Joey, and put two bowls of Lucky Charms cereal on the table, two bananas, and four Kit Kat bars.

"You sure that's enough?" Kaiba said sarcastically. But he could not eat. Two mornings ago he had been living a normal life. He had gotten up at six, looked in on his sleeping brother and had headed off to work. Today he was having breakfast at eight in the morning with the worst duelist in all of Domino and had no idea where his brother was.

"Kaiba," Joey said, pouring himself milk into his cereal, interrupting his thoughts. "You have no idea how glad I'm not to be you."

Kaiba looked from the marshmallows in his bowl to Joey. Without a word he accepted the canteen of milk. For the first time he noticed just how tired the mutt looked. But still, he was eating his cereal at a prodigious rate. "I mean," he continued, "you must be the most isolated bugger in the world."

At first Kaiba could not think up an answer to that one. So, he poured his milk. "Thank you," he finally said, picking up his spoon half heartedly.

"You gonna eat that?" Joey asked, pointing at the Kit Kats. He had already downed his cereal. Kaiba shook his head, hesitantly taking in a spoon full of milk and Charms.

"I've got to go now," Kaiba said abruptly, standing up.

"Don't," Joey stood up too, Kit Kat in hand. "Yugi told Duke Devlin and Bakura about the situation. They and Tea are searching the city during the day while the rest of us take a break.

Joey pushed Kaiba back into his seat. The CEO stared at him. "Why _are_ you all doing this?"

"Well, I don't know about everyone else," Joey said, sitting back in his seat, and taking a huge bite out of the Kit Kat, (it crunched ridiculously loudly,) "but that look on your face right now is worth five sleepless nights," he said smugly, tilting his chair back so that it only stood on its back legs.

Kaiba had not realized it, but something akin to gratitude must have seeped through to his face. He looked back down at his now soggy cereal. He had not eaten cereal since he was ten. There was another long silence.

"Really though…" Joey said, making Kaiba look up again. Joey was looking up at the bare light bulb on the ceiling. "I decided to pitch in because of the way you were going on. And Yugi's right. You had to have been in a pretty bad way if you come to us," he smirked, his mouth outlined with Kit Kat. "Ya see," he said, letting his chair fall back on four legs. "Ever since we met, I hated your guts Kaiba." He seemed to be giving a great deal of thought to what he was saying and, given that last statement, Kaiba was not sure how he felt about that.

Still, Joey continued, "I hated the way ya always got me down when I was up," he took another bite of the chocolate bar. "I hated the way ya made fun of everything I appreciated. I basically couldn't stand you." Joey finished off the Kit Kat, and reached out for the wrapper, which was lying on the table. He smoothed it out on the table, looking at it. "But ya know…" he said, tracing the 'K's with his middle finger, "Me and you…we aint so different," he let the wrapper crumple up again, and propped his head on one arm, looking at Kaiba blearily, the dark patches under his eyes more prominent than ever. "Both of us had to fight our way to where we are now. Both of us aint really had families, 'cept for our siblings. And both of us would die protecting them if we had to." He looked down at his chocolate covered fingers then began liking them. "When you told us what 'ad 'appened to you and your brother, I didn't spend the whole damn night freezing my nose off for _you._ I did it for what you stand for." He smirked and met Kaiba's eyes, a finger still sticking out of his mouth, making his face look lopsided, "for what _we_ stand for." With a soft 'pop' he yanked a now spotless, shiny finger from his mouth.

Kaiba could only stare. This was Joey Wheeler? This was the pathetic wretch who had no business in his tournaments and who only ever got anywhere because he had friends in relatively high places? He leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. He had never even _considered_ them as the same. He looked at the blond boy in a new way. For the first time he noticed, not the untidy appearance of his hair or the somewhat worn out look of his clothes, but glint of mischief in his eyes and the humor in his smile and behind that the same fire that spelled out 'never say die' that he was so proud of seeing in his own eyes.

"Not a bad speech, Wheeler," he said. The tired smirk he gave off could _almost_ have been called a smile.

A few moments of silence followed, during which the two men – so different and yet so much the same – smirked at each other from across the table. Finally Joey let out a sigh. He crumbled up the three Kit Kat wrappers and put them in his pocket. He took the two bowls and Kaiba's uneaten banana and Kit Kat, and walked over to the sink. He discarded the three wrappers and his banana peal in the trash, put the bowls and spoons in the dish washer, the chocolate back of the shelf, and the banana back in the fruit basket.

"You don't live as badly as I thought you would," Kaiba said, looking around the kitchen. It was small, but moderately clean.

"Ya? Do you know how many odd jobs it takes to keep this flat up?" said Joey, trying to reach the fruit basket with the banana. It was high on a shelf. "Why do you think Serenity's not here? Gah!" he had nearly upturned all the fruit. "Whenever times get hard for me, our mum comes and takes her away. She won't let her come back till I can prove that she'll live decent here." He came off his tip-toes, having relieved himself of the banana. "I suppose she's right," he said, crossing his arms, and leaning his back against the kitchen counter. "But Serenity's the only thing I've got at this point. It's thanks to her this place is even livable in," he nodded at the clean kitchen. For a few minutes the two men lost themselves in their own thoughts.

"Does your sister like going to her mother?" Kaiba asked.

Joey thought for a minute, scratching his cheek. "I think she pretends not to for my sake," he finally said, haltingly. "But I think she does. She's not like me, you see. I turned my back on all that when my parents got divorced. For a while I had to live with my Dad – drunkard. Serenity… she only remembers the good in him. Me…" Joey smirked wryly, "…not so much. He kind of hated me at the end because I didn't look like Mom. Just another copy of himself. Nothing to remember his woman by. Mom…Hell, she hated me 'cause I looked like Dad. Reminded her of her man _too much._ Anyway, boring stuff. Family history. Point is, Dad died a while ago. Got buried back in our hometown …And I think Serenity likes visiting Dad's grave while she's with Mom. I think it makes her remember better ti– Kaiba?"

Kaiba, who had till them been sitting quietly, leapt up as if the fires of Hell were upon him. "That's it!" he yelled, pointing at Joey. "That's it!" In his mind, Kaiba was reliving the argument of two days ago:

_"Do you even remember who our parents where?!"_

"Now that's going too far! NEVER speak to me about our parents Mokuba! NEVER! Their gone_ Mokuba! They died in a small town off Domino, called Teller, and there is NO POINT TALKING ABOUT THEM!!!"_

"…that's when I said it," he said at almost a whisper.

"What's with you?" Joey had uncrossed his arms and was standing by Kaiba's side now.

"When I lost my temper with Mokuba," Kaiba said at bullet speed, "I told him that our parents had died in a little town off Domino called Teller!"

"So ya think…"

_"That's_ where they died! _That's _where he'll go!"

Joey nodded and walked over to the phone that hung on the kitchen wall. "I'll call the train station for the next train to that town of yours. I'm also gonna call Tea. I don't think we should call off the search, but I wanna keep the guys posted."

Joey dialed Tea's number "Hello?…Ya, Kaiba thinks he knows where Mokuba's gone!…Ya…ya…okay…S'out of town somewhere…No…no we'll be fine…Ya, keep in touch…So you'll tell the others?...Good…good…bye."

"For the train, tell them one ticket to my name," Kaiba said, nearly jumping out of his skin in anxiety. Whatever had been left of his cool composure when he had woken up had completely disintegrated in this small kitchen of Joey Wheeler.

Joey hung the phone up and went to find his Yellow Pages. He ruffled thought the phone book until his found the number he was looking for. The pages rustled loudly and the tension could be tasted in the silence. "Hey, is this Domino train station?...Great, great. Look, when's the next train to Teller?...Ten o'clock?...Awesome….Right, so, on Seto Kaiba's bill- Ya, you heard me, Seto Kaiba's bill…Ya….Ya, two tickets to Teller…You'll have them ready for us at the station?...Kaiba should bring an ID?...Sounds good...Kickass….ya, thanks." He hung the phone up, turned, and grinned from ear to ear at the look on Kaiba's face.

**---**

**This was my favorite chapter to write! I don't like YuGiOh yaoi and certainly not KaibaxJoey, but I love the idea of these two becoming friends. It just works, damnit! Ah well, I suppose that for this kind of friendship I should just go watch the happy episodes of Naruto, with Naruto and Sasuke! Meh. Anyway, as I said, this was my favorite chapter to write. Opinions please~**


	5. Mokie

Chapter 5 :: "Mokie"

As Kaiba let the train jolt him a little with every few moments, he looked to his right. There was Joey, his mouth open, snoring like a trombone. _"Ya aint in no fit state to go runnin' off to some station on your own. Isn't it just something? I mean, here I am playing nanny for Mr. Money Bags."_

Kaiba had heard him out, and though he knew he was just trying to prove that he was only going because Kaiba was not strong enough to go on his own, Kaiba new better, and he was secretly grateful for it. He had not been in Teller since his parent's deaths and it would be good not to be there alone. He smirked at the window and the different landscapes zipped by. He could not believe it. Of all the people to be there for him upon his return, it would be the mutt.

The smirk vanished. It didn't make sense. The day before, he could have clamed that his reasons for going to Joey and his friends had been desperation. Now, however, he almost enjoyed the inept duelist's company. Kaiba welcomed this…sort of. Perhaps it meant that he was not 'lost.' Perhaps he still _could_ change back from the man Gozaburo had made him. Perhaps.

When they reached Teller at eleven o'clock Kaiba shook Joey awake. "Wheeler, we're here."

Joey jerked awake and blinked. "Wha'?" he muttered blearily. "…Kaiba, you look like ya seen a ghost."

Kaiba didn't answer. However, as he and Joey clambered off the train his eyes darted from sign post, to station, to ticket booth. This was the station from which he and Mokuba had been taken to the Orphanage. It hadn't changed a bit.

"It's a bit early to start walking down Memory Lain," said Joey adjusting his backpack on his shoulders. Earlier Kaiba had been foolish enough to ask what was in the backpack. For the next five or so minutes Joey had been going though what had to be a food list big enough for an army. Kaiba soon discovered that Joey had two hobbies. Eating, and then sleeping.

Kaiba now looked around the station again. They two had been the only ones to get off at his small station. They began walking down to the exit without saying a word to each other. One, because he could think of nothing to say, the other, because his mouth was full of Hershey Kisses. For perhaps the first times in their lives the two looked like equals. They both looked exhausted with their hair untidy and their eyelids drooping and wearing baggy old coats – Kaiba had borrowed one of Joey's because he did not have or want his trench coat. As Kaiba and Joey walked down the stairs to the street below, it was impossible to tell that they had held each other in contempt for the better parts of their lives, or that one was the richest man in Domino, and the other had about three different odd jobs a day.

---

"Oy, Kaiba! Do those look like rain clouds to you?"

Kaiba squinted against the wind. The weather had gone from bad to worse and Kaiba was beginning to have misgivings. Maybe Mokuba had not come here after all? Maybe he was already in the hands of some Pegasus or Marik? "With our luck they just might be!" he hollered over the wind.

The two men had been searching the streets of Teller for the last few hours. After coming across the entire town they found themselves next to an old school building at the fringe of the last houses. It was _then_ that the rain hit. It came poring down in sheets, and Joey's coats did nothing but become soaked with water and heavy to wear.

"Kaiba!" Joey called again, mopping his wet hair out of his face. "In the school play ground. Look! A tree!"

The rest of the street had nothing but houses, and the one tree was all the shelter they could find. Ignoring the safety rules of 'never hide under a tree during a lightning-fest,' Kaiba bolting over the wire fence, and the two pelted for the large oak tree. The moment they were under its leaves, Joey bent down and shook his head. The water sprayed everywhere.

"You dry yourself like a dog," Kaiba sneered, though he was becoming less comfortable with the nickname.

Joey looked up, and it looked as if he had a large, blond, puff ball on his head. "Just watch it Kaiba. Remember, you're on slippery mud and there's a puddle right behind ya. Don't tempt me."

Kaiba did not; indeed, he was very close to apologizing, but restrained himself. Joey, despite the freezing weather, stripped himself first of his jacket and then of his shirt. His chest was thin and pail, and was covered in goosebumps. Kaiba noticed a few scares wracking about his ribcage and trailing up his chest. There was also something on his back that looked suspiciously like a bullet hole. _It seems as if Wheeler's had his share of difficulties._

Joey squeezed his shirt of all the water he could get out, then yanked it back on. "This has got to be the coldest March in ages," he complained, repeating the posses with his coat. Some of the rain leaked though the branches despite the leaf cover.

Kaiba looked over the play ground. This had been his school. He had played here. With every step Kaiba took, he remembered something else – some new detail which had been buried with time. "I hope Mokuba's alright…" he muttered. Joey did not answer; he was hopping up and down, trying to get warm.

"This calls for food!" he finally declared, and picked up the backpack he had put on the ground.

"No wonder your mother doesn't allow your sister to stay with you on account of well living. You eat yourself out of house and home," Kaiba said, his arms crossed, as if that might protect him, even slightly, against the cold.

Joey did not answer, his mouth was too full of chocolate to snap back verbally. Instead, he replied with an eloquent, chocolate covered, middle finger.

At that moment, the ever so peaceful hammering of rain and howling of wind was disturbed by a very faint scream. Indeed, it really might jus have been a particularly eerie howl of the wind. Only that it wasn't. Joey leapt up from his backpack, and Kaiba uncrossed his arms. Joey swallowed his mouthful of chocolate with difficulty and licked his fingers clean. "Tell me that was a bird," he rasped.

Kaiba was silent. Dread filled him. No…it could not be. "Mokuba…" He dashed out from under the tree cover, spraying water in a thousand directions as he ran.

"Oy! Wait for me!" Joey yelled, zipping up his pack and racing after him.

Kaiba ran around the whole school building, before skidding to a halt. There, in the most secluded part of the school building, between two large trash containers, Kaiba heart and feet halted as one. Joey nearly crashed into him.

Huddled between the trash containers were five men, none younger than twenty. They were all clustered around… something.

One of them turned around from what ever they had all been grouped around. "Well, well, well, if it isn't little ol' Beebslee," he leered. "Don't suppose you remember me, do ya? This really _is _turning out to be Memory Lane 101!"

Kaiba's fists tightened. A vague and rather nasty memory was rising to the surface of his mind, the way bile rose up through the throat and into the mouth. The man in front of him was twenty two years old. Kaiba knew that because he had been…three years? Yes, three year his senior when they had last met. It was almost pathetic that Kaiba had trouble remembering the names of some of the men he now met on board meetings but could still recall so much about this insignificant worm.

He and his pack had been the biggest bullies about when Kaiba and Mokuba had been at school. Kaiba had given this lot more than a few knocks on the jaw and had received more than a few beatings in return. Even when Kaiba and Mokuba had gone off to the orphanage in a bigger city his boy had his goons had still managed to pay their respects at last once a week.

"Why, hello, Sidney Miduff," Kaiba said. If he had been wearing his trench coat or logo-belt, Miduff and his pack would probably have realized whom 'Seto' had become, and would have run away with their tails between their legs. As it was, with him dress in an old coat and ordinary shirt and pants, they saw only Seto Beebslee from their childhood.

Miduff was shorter than Kaiba, and stockier, but he was still fierce looking. He had fist that looked as if they could have turned cement to prouder and black hair that was short and sprung up from his head only marginally, extenuating his brutish physique. His smirk widened as Kaiba spoke. "'Ello Beebslee," he said. "Us and your brother have already re-met. We've been going over some old times together."

Another of the men lifted from the ground whatever they had all been huddled around. He smirked at the look of horror that must had flittered across Kaiba's face. The man was holding a very beat up Mokuba. Blood was poring freely out of his nose, and he had an ugly swelling under one eye. It was pretty clear what had happened. Mokuba had followed the same rout that they had followed. He had gone through the entire town until finally coming to the school. Miduff and his cronies might have seem quite early on in his arrival, but had waited for him to walk off to the fringe of Teller before they actually sprung on him. _Those sick bastards… Those fucking sick bastards!_

"You pervs!" Kaiba jumped. He had nearly forgotten that Joey was still with him.

Miduff looked from Kaiba to Joey. "And who might you be?" he asked, smirking.

"A friend," Joey answered shortly. "And you're gonna let go of Mokuba, or feel my fist!" Joey raised one of his boney arms and waived it threateningly at the assembly.

"Ya want him?" Miduff grabbed the uncurious Mokuba by the hair, exposing his face to a blast of freezing air and to the sickened public. "Come and get 'im."

Joey stepped up to stand right next to Kaiba. He had un-slung his backpack from his shoulder and was now holding it loosely in one hand. "On three," he muttered.

Kaiba nodded grimly.

"THREE!"

Water erupted everywhere and the two kicked their feet forward and propelled themselves against the onslaught of rain and royal gits. Joey brought his very heavy backpack full of food down on one of the men's heads, kneeing him in the stomach at the same time. Joey personally always preferred fist fights to duels. Fists some how seemed more decisive.

Kaiba went about it a more professional way. Unlike Joey, he had taken marshal arts. He had two men out cold in one blink of an eye. He let a cruel smirk twitch his mouth as he slammed one of the men's heads against the pavement.

Kaiba straitened up again, just in time to see Joey fall to the pavement, entangled with the fourth out of five men. Kaiba would have let them finish it off by themselves, but suddenly he saw a flash of steal, and Joey let out a throttled yell. His cheek sported a large gash. Joey was now holding onto the offender's wrist for dear life, the knife dripping his own blood all over his face. Kaiba threw himself forward, grabbed arm which was holding the knife, and twisted. The man let out a yell and dropped the weapon. Kaiba pulled him off of Joey by his hair, which was longer than Miduff's, and knocked him out.

"Thanks," said Joey, trying to mop up the blood pouring down his face. Kaiba offered him a hand to get up, which he took.

In unison they turned to the last man standing. Miduff had not joined it with the fighting. He had stayed back with Mokuba. "Impressive," said Miduff, his hand under Mokuba's arm to keep the boy in a semi standing position. "You've gotten good, Beebslee. But ya can't beat this, no matter what ya do." In the flash of a moment, Miduff had plunged his free hand into his pocket, and drawn out a knife. He grazed it, almost lovingly along Mokuba's cheek.

Kaiba stood stock still. He knew Miduff would never kill his little brother. He lacked the nerve. But that did not mean he wouldn't hurt him. And though Kaiba could sew him into total poverty if he chose, that would do no good for Mokuba. The damage would be done. The rain beat down on the three men and the wind pierced their coats down to their very bones. None of them moved. None of them made a sound.

Then, all of a sudden, Joey had cold feat. He mopped his bloody cheek hesitantly and he turned to Kaiba. "Look, um," he said, not meeting the young CEO's gaze. "I…I think I ought to go. I mean…it aint _really _my fight." He looked over at the knife that was hovering by Mokuba's neck. "I'm not always on top of the law myself…and I don't think it would be good for me to get into any more trouble." He nodded mutely, agreeing with himself. He was staring down at his water soaked sneakers now. "Tell me how it all turns out, won't ya? I still owe you for saving my ass just now," the blood dripped down from his cheek and onto his coat." He actually look Kaiba straight in the eye then, as if backing out of a fight was the most natural thing in the world for him. "Sorry Kaiba…this aint my fight." He repeated. And with that, Joey left. He did not even pick up his now very beaten back pack. He merely pelted away, kicking up great sprays of water as he went.

Kaiba was numb. All he could do was watch Joey sprint away. But the second he was gone, Kaiba's insides contracted in fury. _And __**that,**_said the voice in his head,_ is why you do not make friends. They do nothing but hurt and betray._

"You hang out with a pretty pathetic lot," Miduff said, interrupting his thoughts.

Kaiba glared back at him. He was more resolved than ever to get his brother back. As he looked at Mokuba's face, dripping blood from his nose, it made him almost mad with rage. He swallowed hard. He was getting his brother back. He didn't need anyone's help.

"Ya know…" Miduff continued. "You aint changed much. You're still the little soft ball. Always trustin' others, and not getting that trust don't win the day. It's fear Beebslee. Fear an' Power. See that lot," he indicated with his head to the four fallen men. "I don' trust 'em. And they don' trust me. But they fear me like Hell."

Kaiba let a harsh if sad smile touch his lips. Miduff was telling _him_ about Power? He was telling _him_ about Fear? How laughable. How very, very laughable. "What do you gain in doing this?" Kaiba said. And indeed, he was curious. He could understand why Pegasus had abducted Mokuba. He had wanted to use the younger brother to lure the older one into his hands. It had been the same with Marik.

But with Miduff? He didn't even know who the man standing before him _was._ What could he possibly gain out of this? Kaiba didn't understand that for bullies as low on the food chain as Miduff the only reason they ever did anything was to make themselves feel superior. Lame. Cliché. True.

Miduff's grin widened, which only made him look even more menacing. "No reason in particular, except that I always loved to watch you squirm."

Kaiba did not think that it would be wise to tell Miduff that he very rarely 'watched him squirm.' On most occasions Seto would pummel Miduff senseless and only _then _be dragged off by the rest of the savage's cronies.

"And you always squirm, Seto…" Miduff said, contradicting what Kaiba had been thinking. The rain was letting up a little now, but the cold was still piercing. "Whenever you see that your little baby brother's gonna get a beating, you become a baby yourself and try to take on the big boys." He tilted Mokuba's head up so that he could look at him. "I don' know wha' ya see in him," he sneered. "He's a ratty little thing, really."

Despite the utter cold Kaiba's blood was boiling. How he _hated_ being in this situation. He felt so helpless. He could not move, and yet he knew he could not stay still. Miduff took the knife away from Mokuba's cheek, and slowly began pulling it though his hair like a comb.

It was then that it happened. Joey shot out from behind one of the large trash containers clubbed Miduff on the head with a hefty piece of wood. Though Miduff's skull was so thick that the wood made little or no effect, it infuriated him like a wild animal. He let Mokuba crumple lifelessly onto the ground and wheeled around, blindly slashing out with his knife. Joey leapt back and let the knife wiz a hairs breath by his abdomen. The distraction was all that Kaiba needed. He stepped up behind Miduff, put his hand firmly on the back of his fat neck, and squeezed. In less than a moment Miduff fell to the ground uncurious. The rain was no more than a drizzle when Kaiba looked up from the fallen hulk to Joey. He mopped his brown hair out of hi face.

"…What happened?" he asked in shock.

Joey tossed his wood aside. "I saw we weren't gonna get anywhere with him with knife and us not about to leave, so," he shrugged, dabbing his still breading cheek with his sleeve, "I played a _little _dirty. Pretended to quit on ya, doubled round the second I was out of sight, found this awesome and very useful piece of wood, and snuck up from behind him."

Kaiba stared at him in shock. He knew Joey had taken a risk. If he had miscalculated and Kaiba _had_ managed to get the upper hand over Miduff before Joey could come from behind, Kaiba would never have trusted him again. "I…I doubted you," Kaiba began. It was the closest to an apologue he would ever make to anyone but Mokuba.

Joey merely brushed it off. "I'm just that good of an actor," he smirked, but quickly stopped. It obviously hurt his cheek. "Now, what do you say we get the hell outta here before these goons wake up?"

"…ya."

It was only when they were on the other side of the school fence again that they paused. Kaiba was carrying Mokuba in his arms and Joey had his old, now battered, backpack over his shoulder. Mokuba looked awful and Joey suspected that his nose was broken. "Where to from here? The local hospital?'

Kaiba nearly dropped his brother. "NO!" he snapped, much more loudly than he meant to. "Anywhere other than there…" he whispered, looking down at is brother.

"Well, Kaiba. I really don't see anywhere else. And Mokuba don't look ready for the train ride home if you ask–"

"I said," Kaiba whispered dangerously, "Not. Teller. Hospital."

"Okay, okay, have it your way. But have it your way quick. I somehow seriously doubt that this rain is gonna do much good to Mokuba's health." The rain itself had almost let up by now, but a fog was rolling in in its place.

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking!" Kaiba snapped, never looking away from his brother's bloody face. Then it came to him. "Owen!" his head snapped up to look down the street.

"Come again?"

"Owen O'Conner. He was a friend of mine when I was a kid. His mother was a doctor." It was how Seto had learned about his parents accident so soon after it had accrued. Mrs. O'Conner had been working the same night shift as Dr. Vest.

"Okay…" Joey said hesitantly. "But how do ya know their still in this area? And do ya even remember where they lived?"

Kaiba smirked. "Teller's a small town Wheeler. I remember."

It took Kaiba mere minutes to find the house. The fog was really starting to accumulate. He walked down the small front path which lead though the front yard and up to the door. Kaiba remembered the yard as much bigger and the door as much larger.

"Ya do know this is gonna look a bit dodgy to anyone who opens the door now, right? Two teens carrying a beat up kid and refusing to take him to the hospital and all…"

"Just knock," Kaiba cut him off.

Joey knocked on the door. The fog was now really picking up. Kaiba, who was standing at the bottom of the front steps, could only just make out Joey's outline at their top. There were a few lights in the one story house, and after a moment someone could be heard coming down the hall. "I bet you it's gonna be some old granny," mumbled Joey's silhouette.

The door opened and light spilled out into the misty and foggy street. From what Kaiba could see, the outline of a young man was now leaning against the opened door.

"Hey," said Joey, his hands in his pockets. "Look, I'm sorry if we're disturbing ya and all, but do the…what did you call them Kaiba? Callers?"

_"O'Conners,"_ Kaiba said coldly back.

"Ya, do they live here?"

"Yes," said the man hesitantly. "Who's asking?"

Kaiba's heart leapt into his mouth. He _knew_ that Irish accent as if it were his own. "Seto Beebslee," he said. "Now tell me Own, just how long _do_ you plan to keep us out of the house?"

"SETO BEEBSLEE!" Yes, there was no mistaking that accent, though the voice itself had deepened tremendously. Owen passed Joey and came down the steps to hug Seto, but was prevented by Mokuba, who was still in his brother's arms.

"Owen, I'd love to stand around chatting but could we please take advantage of your hospitality presently?" he asked, levitating past Owen and to the door without yet hearing permission granted.

When they were in the foyer, and Kaiba did not have the light against Owen's back, he took a good look at his friend for the first time in nine years. Owen was no longer the plump boy as he had been. He was lanky and his shirt hung limply on him. But his hair was still as red, if not redder. And he was now so freckly, he almost appeared tanned.

But the smile which he had worn when Kaiba had announced himself vanished when he came in and brought Mokuba into clear, hallway light. "Jesus, what happened?"

"Can I lay him down somewhere first?" Kaiba asked curtly.

"Sure. Sorry…ya," Owen closed the door behind them and bustled all three into a small living room. He pointed to the couch. As gently as could be, Kaiba laid Mokuba down on it and pushed a pillow under his head.

"Is you're mom in?" Kaiba asked, brushing a few hairs out of Mokuba's face.

"She's at the 'ospital. And my dad won't be back from work for hours. Blimey, Seto. Shouldn't ya 'ave taken the poor bugger to my mum? At the–"

Kaiba turned around and gave him such a piercing stare that Owen stopped in mid-sentence.

"Do you think you could do anything for him?" he asked quietly after a pointedly long moment.

"Well don't make it sound like the kid's on 'is bloomin' death bed!" Owen said. "Let's get him cleaned up first. Then…I'll see what I can do."

A few minutes later Kaiba and Joey were hovering by the wall of the living room, dripping puddles onto the rug, while Owen kneed next to Mokuba, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, mopping the blood from his face with a warm, wet towel.

Owen had been right. It did look much worse than it was. In minutes all the blood that had been forming a crust on Mokuba's cheeks was transferred to a bowl at the foot of the couch. Only his nose remained very red. But it had stopped bleeding, and that was a good sign in itself.

"Is he gonna be ok?" Joey finally ventured.

Owen did not answer. In their few minutes of re-acquiesce, Owen had told Kaiba that he had started following his mother's footsteps in becoming a doctor. All he said now was "'Elp me with 'im." With Joey propping Mokuba up, Owen striped him of his shirt. It was so wet that it stuck to him like a second skin. Joey eased Mokuba back onto the couch. Owen felt around his rib cage. "There's gonna be some bruising. See? It's already starting up," he pointed to a few purple blotches on the boy's thin torso. "And when it goes it ain't gonna show mercy, believe me. Yup, Seto. Mokie's gonna be a proper little blue berry for the next few weeks."

Kaiba did not answer. He merely stayed as far in his corner as he could. Owen felt around again. "But their ain't a brakeage you'll be glad to hear." His hand went up to Mokuba's nose, and gave it a slight press. At this, and for the first time since Joey and Kaiba had heard the scream from across the playground, Mokuba emitted a noise; a soft, low, groan escaped his lips. "His nose is broken," Owen continued. "This part's caved in." He tapped the upper side of his nose. "No plastic surgery for that, but anesthesia's gonna 'ave to come in for the doc to set the bone back in place. Nasty stuff, 'specially if it's your first go at it. But he'll live. So," Owen got up off his knees with a heave, "recon that's it then," he said, looking at Kaiba.

"But why," Kaiba sounded as if the fog had gotten clogged in his throat, it was so hoarse. "Why isn't he awake? I mean, why hasn't he come round yet?"

Owen gave him an incredulous look. "Oh come _on_ Seto! I remember ya as a smart bugger! A day out in miserable weather like this? At his age? All alone? And then going though…whatever he went though!? I'd like to see_ you_ skipping around after something like that! Na, he'll be fine. All he needs is rest. And the three of us can go into the kitchen, get some beer, I can get _you_ bandaged up," he nodded at Joey. The cut on his cheek seemed to have stopped bleeding as well, but it looked as if it was going to need stitches. "And you," he turned back to Kaiba, "can start your story from the beginning – Huck," he smirked.

---

Kaiba sat on the floor with his back propped against the couch. From the kitchen he could hear Joey and Owen talking. Owen had given them both fresh clothes. Kaiba now sat in a pair of jeans, a very wooly red sweater, and very wooly socks. He pushed his toes together, lost in thoughts. Owen had also given both of them a bottle of bear each.

They had all settled down at the small kitchen table and Kaiba had informed Owen of as much of the story as he felt in to mood to tell. After a bit, however, he had left the table and had returned to the living room to where Mokuba was. Owen and Joey could survive without him for a while. Indeed, the young Irishman and the Brooklyn urchin seemed to be getting along famously. It was rather ironically humorous – Owen probably that _all_ of his friends were like Joey.

Now, as he half listened to the mutters from the kitchen, he was sure that Joey was trying to fill in the blanks which Kaiba had been reluctant to mention. He tilted his head and looked at his brother's sleeping form. He had been reluctant to say just _how much _he had changed since he and Owen had last met.

The bear in his hands was making his already cold fingers numb. He took a swig from it. He never drank. There was not a drop of alcohol in the entire mansion. But he liked the taste, oddly enough.

His eyes slid back to Mokuba's face. Again. When would he wake up? It had to have already been over an hour since Kaiba and Joey had heard him scream. _I am going to sew Miduff's sorry ass farther into the gutter than he has ever been. And that is sewage point,_ Kaiba thought grimly, gripping his bottle into his palms.

His mind tried to focus back onto Joey's voice in the kitchen. However, his mind trailed to what Joey had said, not in the kitchen, but in their confrontation with Miduff.

_"And who might you be?"_

"A friend." 

Kaiba blinked and looked at Mokuba again, even as tried and failed to distinguish the voices from the kitchen. Joey had called him his friend…

Was he?

Mokuba stirred. Kaiba put his bottle down on the rug and scrambled up on his knees before the couch. Mokuba let out a soft groan. Kaiba seemed forgot how to breathe. The trick of it seemed had escaped him. He just hovered over his brother, motionless. Mokuba's eye lids fluttered, and opened. His gaze was unfocused for a few moments, but then his eyes rested on Kaiba, and he smiled.

"Seto?" he reached a hand out from under his blankets. Kaiba grabbed it. He held it tightly in his own. It was warm. It was still _warm_. He kissed it. Tears began to stream down his face. He felt himself shaking just a little. He hadn't realized just how important this one thing was before he had grabbed Mokuba's hand. Mokuba's hand… was warm.

"Seto? Seto, what's wrong?" Mokuba blinked rapidly, still trying to get up his bearings now that he had woken up. "What's wrong? I… I'm sorry I ran away. I didn't think anything would happen. I'm sorry. I really just wanted to go and find out and-"

"I thought I'd lost you," Kaiba's voice was shaking as badly as the rest of him. He had to press himself against the side of the couch just to subdue some of the tremors wracking through him. His face was already drenched in his own tears. "Mokie," he whispered, kissing the little boy's hand again. His grip on it was almost painful.

There was silence for a moment, "…What did you call me?" Mokuba swallowed.

All the barriers that Kaiba had worried about in his office collapsed. "Mokie!" he whispered, choking a little. He let go of his brother's hand and, gently as could be, took Mokuba into his arms. "Mokie…" he whispered again, burying his face in the crook of his little brother's neck. "Mokie."


End file.
